Harry Hightop
by Lizzie121212
Summary: Alice finds a small boy who is quite Wonderfully Mad in the Upperworld. Well, there's only one place for him, isn't there? Let's see how Hogwarts manages a Potter raised in Wonderland.
1. Chapter 1

Alice wandered through the park, enjoying herself in the Upper World's air. As much as she loved Underland and it's inhabitants, she was pleased that she still had the option of visiting the realm she was born into.

At this, she sighed, remembering her mother and Margret. Both had passed away by now, but she still remembered what a fuss they made when she announced, after a trip down the rabbit hole on her twenty eighth birthday, that she was going to a 'foreign country', and was only going to visit one month a year.

She had chosen to stay in Underland with her Mad Hatter, Tarrant Hightop, on the condition that she could leave for one Upperworld month each year. Even now, when she had no one left to visit, she would still come and see what changes had happened, and to visit her birth realm.

She came back to herself to see a small, scrawny boy with black hair sobbing behind a bush. Concerned, she walked over.

"Hello. My name is Alice." She said, sitting down next to him.

He peered up at her, sobs dying down to sniffles. "I'm Harry."

"Well Harry, why are you crying?"

"I was ru-running from my c-cousin." He started shakily. "They were Harry hunting. Aunt Petunia chased me out because-"

He stopped and looked down at his feet, seemingly realising he was talking to an adult.

Curiosity piqued, not to mention a dash of anger (Harry hunting indeed! Horrible brat of a cousin!) Alice asked "Why would she do that?"

Harry sniffed, then seemed to decide she was trustworthy. "I said that I had been dreaming of a flying broomstick and a talking mirror, with a kind man who turned into a dog."

Alice had a sudden flashback to her teenage years, dreaming of talking rabbits and tea parties.

"She said I was a freak and was off my head." He continued dejectedly. Looking up at her, he asked in a small voice "Am I going mad?"

The action had become almost automatic by now, reaching up to feel his forehead (she didn't like how he flinched away, not at all) and saying seriously "I'm afraid you are. Mad, bonkers, off your rocker."

He looked so sad, gazing up as his green eyes shined with unshed tears.

"But I'll tell you a secret." She, said smiling at the hope that appeared.

"All the best people are."

* * *

Harry found himself trusting this lady with silver-gold hair and her kind, calm manner. Therefore, when she asked "Would you like to come with me and see some more of the best people?" he didn't hesitate to agree.

The trip to Underland, as he was told it was called, was magical, literally. They walked through an ornate mirror and found themselves on a path with an odd signpost.

He jumped as a grinning blue cat appeared.

"Hello Chess." Alice greeted it in a warm tone.

"Hello Alice. Isn't it rather early for you to return?" Chess asked, drifting upside down.

"I found a boy in a garden crying, and decided to help him regain his muchness." She explained. "This is Harry. Harry, this is the Cheshire Cat."

"How do you do, sir." Harry said, recovering his voice.

"The way anyone else does anything, but with more skill and charm." Chess said, grinning even wider.

He grinned back. He liked this cat, a lot more than he liked Mrs Figg's.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Harry. He met many other people, including Alice's husband Tarrant, the Mad Hatter, and her daughter Marigold 'call me Mandy'.

"Mad little boys are welcome here. Far better than those up top with no muchness." Hatter had declared happily after hearing their story. "Come for tea? Ah, you're awfully late!" He said in mock seriousness, making Harry giggle.

Yes, this was definitely the best day of Harry's life. Ever.


	2. Chapter 2

"Tarrant," Alice said quietly, watching Mandy and Harry playing with the tea set. "Harry has the most awful family. Do you think...?"

"Aye, lass. He canae stay there, not with those-" he then said several words that made Alice rather glad that the children were not within hearing range.

"It would be good for Mandy to have someone her own age." Mused Alice thoughtfully. Her and Tarrant grinned at each other in a way that promised madness from them both.

"We will just have to adopt him then." Alice said happily.

* * *

Mrs Figg peered over the hedge. She was becoming rather worried by Harry Potter's absence and was attempting to keep an eye out. Therefore, she was there watching, open mouthed, as the most extraordinary man she had seen in a long time came down the road.

He was unusual in many ways - pale skin, bright orange hair, clashing clothes - but what struck her were his eyes.

She hadn't seen eyes burn orange before.

She continued to watch as the man strode towards the Dursley's house. Vermin seemed to have run out to get rid of him, bellowing and waving his arms.

She turned the setting of her magical hearing aid up.

"Now then," the madman said. "Are you, by any chance, a Durselely?"

Vernon Dursley went red. "I demand you leave at once! We don't want any of your sort here!"

She fancied the stranger's eyes darkened, more red than orange.

"Yer be the coward 'oo was cherged w'th th' care o' 'arry?" He growled. Mrs Figg suddenly felt the urge to run away; something about the man was unbalanced.

"Hatter!" A sweet, calm voice called.

A blond woman in a blue dress walked up to the madman's side.

"Mr Dursley," she said with a deceptively friendly look. "We are assuming custody of Harry."

Vermont turned puce. "Now see here-"

"Yer canae look aft'r the wee lad, yer a-" the madman would have gone on to say what, exactly, Vernon Dursley was, were it not for the woman's "Hatter!".

The small woman glared at Vernon. "We will be taking Harry. It seems the above world has gone to utter ruins if you are what passes for normal."

Vernon Dursley seemed to be thinking hard, then sneered. "Fine then, the freak is your problem now."

He stalked off, leaving the two mad people behind, who promptly turned around and walked away, looking very pleased.

"Oh dear," Mrs Figg muttered. "Albus is not going to like this..."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not happy at all. Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World, had been kidnapped!

From Mrs Figg's description, the criminals were likely to have been foreign wizards. Although, no culture came to mind who wore such clothes.

Ah well, Mrs Figg was prone to exaggeration, after all.

He debated for a moment, unsure whether this should be a matter for the Aurors. On the one hand, they would likely provide the edge needed for finding Harry Potter. On the other hand, they may not be too pleased with the conditions their Saviour had been living in with the Dursleys.

At this thought, he gave a regretful sigh. If there had of been anyone else left of the family, away from the Magical community, they would have been preferable. In fact, anyone at all able to keep Harry safe. Alas, the blood wards were the only solution he could find.

Another thought struck. Harry may be away too long to call Privett Drive home, and once again be in danger of Death Eaters and criminals, not to mention various people willing to manipulate him.

Panicking, Dumbledore strode over to the fireplace and shouted "Ministry of Magic!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Five years later**

"Harry!" Alice called. "Don't keep Bandy waiting, Time may not forgive you forgetting him again."

"I never let the tea turn cold," he said. "And I shan't miss the Upperland trip either; besides, Time doesn't like to be kept too closely either."

Alice sighed, amused, as the wild haired boy slid down the stairs. As an Uplander himself, he joined her on her yearly visits. She also taught him about Upperland's customs, though advised him to follow his heart and keep his muchness rather than follow Upperland's expectations too closely.

This time she had promised to take him to a forrest where bluebells grew by the hundreds, with plenty of animals to discover and paths to follow for the young boy.

He slipped on his boots; a present from his tenth birthday, a week ago. They had had a marvellous tea party with all their Wonderland, or Underland, friends, and he had cut the cake for everyone else's un-birthday. In return, each of them gave him an un-un-birthday gift. It had been brilliant fun.

Eager to go topside, he clambered onto Bandy. He was one of the few who could do that without Bandy swiping at him; he had taken a shine to the messy haired boy, just as he had a blond haired girl many years back.

With that, they set off to find adventure topside, in the Overworld.

* * *

They were half way to the forrest when they were assaulted by an owl.

"Good evening, Wise One." Harry said politely to the owl currently sitting on his arm.

"Speak featherfancy, Harry. Remember, Upperworld creatures have a dislike of commonspeak." Alice reminded him.

Harry sighed. He could speak the language of birds, but the specific dialect of owls had always been too wordy and wise for his liking.

Greetings, wise one, He said, albeit with a rather strong accent. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit?

The Upperland Magic Folk send greetings and a message, young Underlander. The large owl hooted. It held out its leg, where a letter was tied. Once Harry took the letter, the owl bade him farewell and flew away.

"It's an invitation to a magic school!" Harry said excitedly. "That sounds so cool!"

Alice chuckled at his excitement, and at his use of modern slang. He seemed to switch between that and more Underlandian speech quite frequently. "Absolem said this may happen. So, what do you think? Ready to go on an adventure in the Upperlands?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm ready, I can do it! Absolem has been teaching me all sorts of magic stuff!"

"Well then, let's go tell the others." She said, leading the way back to the mirror.

* * *

Harry skipped onto the platform, with Alice and Tarrant trailing behind. Mandy was holding Alice's hand, unused to the hustle and bustle of the Upperland.

"Careful, Harry," Alice said. "Don't get lost, or we'll be in quite the muddle."

Having asked a helpful shop assistant in Diagon Ally how to enter the platform, they strode through the barrier.

"Now you are to be travelling far and away, you may be needing a certain something." Hatter said, one hand going to cover Harry's eyes. Alice grinned, knowing what he intended.

Harry stilled as he felt the weight of a hat fall onto his head. He reached up in wonder, Hatter uncovering his eyes. Lifting the hat from his head, he found it to be a stunning matte black top hat, newer than Hatter's and with a bright green ribbon. A scarlet feather from the Jubjub bird and a bundle of four leaf clovers adorned the side.

Harry threw himself forward, hugging his adopted father happily. "It's marvellous, superb, wonderful, frumptious-"

"Harry!" Mandy said, giggling.

He blushed. "Oops. Um, thanks dad."

Alice gave her Hatter a smug, 'I told you so' look. She knew it was perfect, despite Tarrant's fretting.

Harry reluctantly said his goodbyes to his family and clambered onto the scarlet steam train. "I'll be back before you know it!" He called out of the window, seeing Mandy wiping away tears. Tarrant and Alice started, then chuckled a trifle madly.

He straightened his hat, then strolled down the carriage, in search of adventure.

* * *

Harry perched upon one of the seats in a carriage. He was going to miss Underland, but at the moment he just felt excitement. Pulling a book out of his bag, he flicked through to the page about the school houses. "Brave, loyal, cunning and wise..." He muttered. "But isn't everyone some mixture of all of them?"

He looked up as a ginger boy entered the carriage. "Er, can I sit with you? Everywhere else is full." The boy said.

Harry gave his best grin, adjusting his hat. "Sure! I've not got any tea to offer at this very moment, I'm afraid, but we'll make do. Harry Hightop, at your service."

"Er," the boy said, looking rather baffled. "Ron Weasley."

There was silence for a moment, before Ron asked "So, which house do you think you'll be in?"

"I...don't know." Harry said, looking rather worried. "The book didn't say much apart from giving each house a word, and no person could possibly be one thing."

"I'd say Gryffindor's the best; that's where I'll probably go." Ron stated happily. "My whole family's been in Gryffindor."

Harry frowned. "Why, that seems a little strange. My family is like milk, tea and madness; none of us are quite the same, but we fit together."

"Er, right." Ron said, wondering just what he had gotten himself into. "I'd say my family's more of a quiddich team." He mused after a moment.

"Quiddich?" Asked Harry. "What's that, an important date?"

Ron gaped at Harry. "You don't know what quiddich is?" He asked, horrified. "It's the best sport in the world! See..."

Harry listened as Ron described a game on flying broomsticks, with a variety of balls and rules. He wondered what his mum would say to flying broomsticks; she would probably be delighted. She often wondered what it would be like to fly.

After a while, a woman came in with a trolley of food.

"Have you got any tea?" Harry asked. The lady looked rather confused by the question.

"No, dear, but there is pumpkin juice. Will that do?" She asked. Well! Replacing tea, the vital liquid madness of Wonderland, with liquidised vegetables!

"No thank you. I'll be okay with what I have." Harry said, a touch coldly. The woman gave him a confused smile and, after Ron also said he didn't want anything, carried on to the next cart.

Moodily, Ron went to unwrap his sandwiches – only to stop and stare as Harry brought an alarming collection of objects.

"What's all that?" He asked faintly.

"Tea!" Harry exclaimed, with a rather mad grin.

"...Oh." Ron said. Maybe it wasn't too late to move into a different cart.

Inwardly smirking, Harry drew out a large, ornate teapot. Something told him these wizards needed a proper tea party.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stalked into the carriage. "I heard Harry Potter was on this..." He trailed off in confusion.

The carriage had a different layout to the others; four people around a central table. On one side was a ginger boy, obviously a Weasley, looking at the cup in his hand with confusion. A pudgy boy and a frizzy haired girl sat on the other side, the boy grinning shyly while the girl chattered about anything and everything.

It was the head of the table that really drew his attention. A boy his age sat proudly on a high backed chair, a tall top hat on his head. He looked utterly mad, with bright olden style muggle clothing, an insane smile and a fevered light shining in his eyes. He looked up to where Draco and his associates stood bewildered.

"Hello!" He cried. "You're awfully late for tea!"

The girl frowned. "How could he be late to a place he was never expected to be?"

"Well, now that your finally here, sit, sit." The mad boy said, gesturing to the empty seats. Crab and Goyle waddled over obediently upon seeing the scones, and Draco automatically picked up a teacup, moving round to sit between the girl and the top hat boy.

"Who are-" Draco started hotly.

"Introductions!" The mad boy exclaimed, before introducing each of the people at the table.

"This here is the brave Ron Weasley," Draco had spotted that a mile off.

"The esteemed Neville Longbottom," The cowardly boy was a Longbottom?

"The beautiful and knowledgable Hermione Granger," The girl, undoubtedly muggle born, blushed.

"And I myself am Harry Hightop, hailing from Underland and currently contemplating the letter 'C'." The mad- that is, Hightop, said grandly.

Recovering from this onslaught, Draco gathered himself up haughtily and said "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"And you Gentlemen?" Hightop asked Malfoy's two acquaintances.

"Crabb," grunted Crabb.

"Goyle," rumbled Goyle.

"Tea?" He asked, holding up an ornate teacup. "I assure you, it's perfectly safe."

Draco had not even though tea could be unsafe, and was now a touch weary. However, he didn't want to offend Hightop, so nodded regally.

And so, the train rolled on, taking the tea party with it.


	4. Chapter 4

Professor Snape watched as the first years began to be called to the front. Clapping when appropriate, he assessed this year's group. There were several influential families; his godson Draco for one, a Greengrass girl most likely heading for his own house, and that appeared to be the Longbottom boy.

Of course, what he was refusing to acknowledge was the fact that the Potter spawn would also be arriving. Somehow, he had reappeared after vanishing for five whole years. Slowly, the names trickled away, new students filling into houses, until...

"Potter, Harry."

Snape blinked, not entirely sure he wasn't hallucinating. The boy skipping over to the stool had the Potter hair, but his clothing was, well, odd. An old form of Muggle clothing, but with unnaturally bright colours. Everything around him seemed dimmer than it should be, lacking the vibrancy the boy's appearance excluded.

He cast a swift eye over the rest of the staff, seeing a fair few of his peers openly gaping at the scene, behaving barely any better than the gawping students.

He watched with a sharp eye, curious and weary, as the brat reached the stool.

* * *

Harry bounced over, and removed his hat with a flourish. The Sorting Hat in front of him was in terrible condition; how they had let such a wonderful specimen of the magical craft deteriorate so badly, he didn't know.

Oh well, perhaps even he would bring it up later. In a pinch, he could offer to do what he could with what his Dad had taught him. With that, he sat down and gently lowered the ancient hat onto his head.

'Well well well, Mr Hightop, this is unexpected.' A voice identical to that of the singer said. 'I was expecting a muggle raised Potter, but here we have an Underlandian. None of your kind have attended Hogwarts in over a century.'

'Then I am grateful to have the chance, my good hat.' Harry said cordially. 'If you don't mind me asking, how are you to go about sorting me?'

The Hat chuckled at his formal tone. 'No need for that, Mr Hightop. I'm no foreign dignitary or haughty owl; just a humble hat. As for the sorting, I sense loyalty and intelligence, but both are outweighed by your bravery and cunning. Gryffindor would welcome you and give you a home, but if wish to be great, Slytherin could help you on the way to greatness.'

Harry hummed. 'Snakes are great, wonderful conversationalists, and greatness is all well and good, but from what I've read, Gryffindor sounds best for me. They seem to be far muchier folk'

'I couldn't agree more, Mr Hightop,' the Hat said warmly. 'You will do well in-'

"Gryffindor!"

Harry grinned at the shout, and at the cheering that erupted in response. 'A pleasure, Sir.' he said, before removing the Hat and placing it back on the stool.

He sat down next to Ron at the benches, grinning as he heard "We got Potter!" being chanted. As much as he loved being a Hightop, he had no problems with his birth name. From the history books he had read, his parents had been brave people, much muchier than most Upperlanders.

As he settled down amongst the happy chatter of Hogwarts, he decided he was very glad he had set out on this adventure.

* * *

Harry sighed happily, double checking the blankets wrapped around his Jubjub bird egg. He had found the most excellent rabbit hole in the forest, and was enjoying being back home in Underland.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Alice said, pouring herself more tea as she dodged a scone. "My grandniece Luna will be joining you at your school in a year."

Harry beamed at this; cousin Luna was great, so much muchier than other Upperlanders. "That will be wonderful! The school seems ever so interesting so far; I'll learn to make potions in the morning."

"Well, if you need any help, you can ask Miranda," Alice reminded him. "Just because you go to an Upperland school, doesn't mean she can't still tutor you."

He nodded happily. Lessons with Aunt Miranda were great, even if the potions always tasted horrible.

He gasped suddenly, spinning round to the egg again. "Mum! There's a crack!"

"Oh!" She exclaimed softly. She gently unwrapped the egg, watching as the small crack started to spread. "Why, aren't you a strong one."

They watched, wide eyed, as the regular taps widened the cracks. When Tarrant came out, he came and sat by them, just as amazed.

With a final tap, the egg shattered. A damp, crimson chick looked up at Harry and let out a weak "peep!"

Cooing a soft greeting to the Jubjub chick, Harry scooped it up. Grinning, Alice passed Harry the syringe of pulp Miranda had said would be good baby food for the young bird.

Even Tarrant, wary as he was of offspring of the frumious Jubjub bird, had to admit the young chick was rather fetching as it fluffed out, chirping happily at the food.

"I'll call him Jilib, son of the Jubjub bird." Harry proclaimed, as the newly named Jilib snuggled closer to him.

"A fine name," Tarrant said happily. "I think the little lass is a touch young for tea, but us whom have known Time longer may as well fetch some."

Alice nodded with a small, mad smile. "A celebration for the young one sounds excellent. Mandy should be home from her lessons soon; I'll gather Maddy and the Hare for a spot of tea."

Harry grinned. He would face tomorrow when it came; tonight he was going to have tea.

* * *

"Potions!" Harry proclaimed to his bleary-eyed friends once they reached the common room.

"Breakfast." Hermione stated. Ron and Neville nodded, while Harry sighed in defeat.

Entering the hall, Harry made a beeline to the Slytherin table. "Draco!" he cried happily. "How fare thee?"

Draco winced, glancing at his sniggering housemates. "Potter." He said shortly in greeting.

Harry frowned. "Chin up! We have potions; sounds interesting, yeah?"

"Er, yeah. I'll see you in class, Potter."

Ron shook his head as Harry bounced back. "Blimey, Harry, I don't know why you keep talking to Malfoy. He's not exactly friendly, is he?"

"He'll come around," Harry said, shrugging.

* * *

"Ah, Potter," Snape drawled. "Our new...celebrity."

The Slytherins smirked. The Gryffindors scowled.

Neville, Hermione, Ron and Draco looked vaguely baffled, but that may just have been from talking to Harry outside the classroom.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Harry said, sweeping his hat off in a grand gesture. Snape sent him a scowl that was a touch horrified.

Finishing the register, Snape barked "Potter!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Where would you find a bezoar?"

"You would have to ask a Colywonkle."

Snape stared for a moment. "A...what?"

"A Colywonkle. Similar to an Upperland goat, I believe. Give them a five-leafed clover and they'll regurgitate five bezoars."

"Goat." Snape repeated. His eyes looked slightly glazed, before he seemed to recover. "Mr Potter, a bezoar is from the stomach of a goat. What is this nonsense about, about clowonks?"

"Colywonkles, professor." Harry said, grinning brightly. "Nonsense is simply a word for madness, right?"

"I-"

"Wonderful!" Harry exclaimed. "Shall we have tea?"

"Tea?"

"Of course! Madness and tea!" To Snape's horror, and the rest of the class' shock, Harry pulled out a steaming teapot.

"Not now, Harry!" Hermione whispered harshly.

"But Hermione-"

"Later!"

Faced with the stern look Hermione was giving him, Harry sadly put the teapot away.

The class watched Snape. And watched. And watched.

"You broke him." Draco whispered flatly. Harry started to look vaguely concerned.

"Professor?" He asked hesitantly.

"Detention, Potter!" Snape all but screamed, white lipped.

"Oh."


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione found Harry one morning cooing over a small bird, wrapped in a towel.

"Harry, where did you get that?" she asked, curious.

"He was a gift from my parents. He only hatched a couple of days ago, and he's already doubled in size," Harry said proudly. "Dad thinks he might be big enough to ride on in a couple of years!"

"R-ride on?!" Hermione stuttered. "What type of bird is that?"

Harry grinned. "A Jubjub bird. Of course, I'm going to have to train him to be less...murder-y than the original Jubjub bird, but mum, Maddy and I have high hopes. Dads still doubtful, but he's coming around."

Creeping closer, Hermione peered over Harry's shoulder at the small bird. "Isn't Jubjub bird an old name for-" She blanched. "Harry, that's an occamy!"

"Is that what wizards call it?" Harry asked absently. "What an odd name."

"It's- oh, for goodness sakes Harry, occamy birds are deadly!" She scolded, exasperated.

He nodded, still petting the small chick. "I know; this one's parent gave mum quite a bit of trouble. They can be very loyal if you treat them right, though."

Hermione stared at him for a moment and sighed. "Breakfast?"

"Sure," he said happily, bundling Jilib up to take with them. "I'll bring the tea."

* * *

"Hello Draco!" Harry chirped, waving at the Slytherin table. Draco slid down his seat, slouching over to make himself less noticeable.

Hermione rolled her eyes, dragging him over to sit next to Ron.

"Flying lessons this morning!" Ron said with an excited grin. "Should be wicked; it's a shame we can't try for the team this year."

Harry nodded happily, passing Ron and Hermione a cup of tea each. Hermione eyed the broken half-a-cup, but it seemed to be holding the tea just fine. "What will they have us fly on? I'm afraid Jilib is far too young yet."

"Yeah, I see that," Ron said, eyeing the chick in Harry's lap with some amusement. "But nah, they'll just have us flying the school brooms."

Neville came to sit opposite them. "O-oh, I'm not sure at all about this." He muttered. "I've never flown before."

"It'll be right as white roses," Harry said reassuringly. "We'll all be there to help out, you'll see."

* * *

"Place your hand over your broom," Madam Hooche shouted. "And say 'up'."

Harry frowned. "That sounds rather uncourteous," he muttered. "We are after all, asking for their assistance."

"Do what you like, then!" Hermione snapped after failing to do more than make her broom twitch.

Placing his hand outwards, Harry looked down at the broom. "Twigged and polished sir," he started, remembering his lessons with Aunt Miranda. "I humbly ask for your assistance in flight."

The broom on the ground fluffed its bristles and floated regally upwards, expelling a sense of smug agreement. Hermione's broom bristled in irritation.

"Wicked," Ron breathed, looking at the broom. "Mate, you'll have to teach me that."

Harry grinned. "I honestly didn't think all those etiquette lessons would pay off."

"Eti- uh, never mind." Ron said, paling.

"Alright, class," barked Madam Hooche. "On my mark, push off gently, hover for a few seconds, then come back down. On my mark, get set-"

Before she could blow the whistle, Neville pushed off, far too fast and far too hard. He rocketed upwards with a yelp, and the old broom shuddered and stilled.

"He's going to fall!" One of the Gryffindor girls shrieked. Sure enough, Neville plummeted down and landed with a sickening crack.

Madam Hooche hurried over. "Anyone on their brooms before I come back will be expelled before you can say Quiddich!" She shouted behind her, before taking Neville to Madame Pomphrey.

The students shuffled for a moment, before Draco stooped to pick a glass ball from the ground.

"Look at this," he said, smirking. "Longbottom's dropped his pathetic rememberall!"

Harry didn't notice. Harry was cooing at a very young bird that had tottered out to find him. "Who's a good boy, then," he said to Jillib

"Give it back, Malfoy!" Ron shouted, taking a step forward. Harry didn't look up.

Later, Harry was told, with a mixture of exasperation and bafflement, that he had missed the high-speed air chase, of which the teachers undoubtedly knew about but could find no evidence for. The outcome became more and more ridiculous with each retelling, but Neville did get his rememberall back.

* * *

It was Halloween. Ron was sitting slumped low in his set, looking horribly guilty, while Harry sat next to him radiating an almost arrogant disapproval.

After hearing Ron's mean spirited comment, and seeing Hermione's reaction to it, Harry had channelled his mother at her most disappointed, and Harry's searing cold lecture had made Ron feel half an inch tall.

They had meant to find her, but had not known where she was until the feast, when they were informed that she was crying in the bathroom.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon!" being shouted by professor Quirrel did a remarkable job derailing their thoughts.

Harry looked at Ron wide-eyed. "Hermione's there!"

Ron hesitated. "Oh, fine," he said, worry thinly veiled by faked irritation.

As the students filed out, the two slipped away, becoming more and more tense as they neared the bathroom. Ron shivered, and wondering why looked over at Harry. He had never seen him look so serious or cold, not even that morning. For a second, Ron almost felt sorry for the troll.

Harry grabbed a sword from a nearby suit of armour, and took off at a run.

* * *

The teachers burst in to find two traumatised students and one victorious one, all three covered in troll blood. Professor MaGonagall let out a short shriek at the sight of a troll's head, separate from the troll body.

Harry started wiping the sword with a rag torn from his robe, panting. "Never have I found myself so grateful for combat lessons."

"Mr Potter-!" McGonagall began, only to be interrupted by the boy collapsing into a dead faint.

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked, worry making her voice high pitched.

Snape knelt down and cast a quick spell. "The boy is unharmed," he said irritably. "The idiotic dudderhead simply overexerted himself."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a concerned glance, and followed along behind McGonnigal as she levitated Harry to the hospital wing. They would look after their friend, no matter what would come their way.

* * *

"Harry?" Hermione asked gently. "Are you...okay?"

it had been a while since the troll. Hermione had relaxed somewhat, but was still frequently baffled by the oddity that was Harry Hightop. Said oddity was currently looking quite fed-up.

"Mppfff" mumbled Harry, face down on a couch. He lifted his head a little. "Time is in an awful mood about something; he acted ever so strangely when I told him of Hogwarts during tea time. Jabbered on about stones and stolen time like a mome rath on Brillig day."

Having long ago given up asking about Harry's odd sayings, Hermione said musingly "I wonder if it has anything to do with what Fluffy is guarding."

"Probably," Harry said morosely. "But if Time is so bothered by it, we'd do well to leave the whole business be."

"You're not at all curious?" Asked Hermione, surprised. Harry usually wanted to know everything about everything.

He gave a vague half shrug, Jillib chirping irritably from where he was curled up against his shoulder. "Mum's worried there'll be something in the Arraculum scroll. I can't say I'm too eager to find out; the peace and quiet here is growing on me."

Hermione stifled a laugh. Only Harry would describe befriending a cerberus, dealing with Snape's pettiness and killing a troll as 'peace and quiet'.


End file.
